Masamune, Muramasa
by wordslinger
Summary: She is the stuff of legends. But she is also human. Jerza. Complete.


_**Author's Note: Ah, so, this.**_

 _ **I've been seeing some theories on tumblr regarding Erza and Eileen and her two minions that turned out to be enchanted weapons. I had a laugh at them but then had some other thoughts. The idea of Erza being a highly advanced form of enchanted weapon intrigues me.**_

 _ **I really like the legend of Masamune and his pupil Muramasa. There's varying accounts but my favorite is the one where Muramasa challenges Masamune to see who could make the best sword. Muramasa's sword was called Juuchi Yosamu or "10,000 Cold Nights." When placed in the river it easily sliced through everything that crossed its path including living things. Masamune's sword was called Yawarakai-Te or "Tender Hands" and only sliced through the leaves. A passing monk declared both the swords of fine make but claimed Muramasa's evil and murderous.**_

 _ **Yes, I realize that Eileen is the enchantress likely making these low grade swords somewhat human in appearance and attaching personalities. But let me have this one because I really enjoy the juxtaposition of Erza and Eileen mirrored here.**_

 _ **This site ate my formatting again and I just have to live with it. Sorry it's not as visually appealing as it was in my Word doc.**_

* * *

It hurts him to see her so lost. She's always been the light unto his path and now she stares into the darkness as if to find herself there. He wonders what she'll do if she ever finds the place inside of her that's not quite human – the edge of her own blade. Would she throw herself upon it and cease to exist? Jellal doesn't dare contemplate a world where she is no longer by his side in flesh but strapped to his hip sheathed in leather.

 _That's Erza for you!_

 _Because she's Erza!_

But she isn't Erza Scarlet. She is _Yawarakai-Te_. Just one half of a soul forged and bound to a blade she's never even seen. Eileen had scoffed at Erza's horror and embraced her own name – _Juuchi Yosamu_.

"Hands so tender are useless," she'd said with a sneer. "The cold of night has made me strong. Until we cross paths again, sister. Stay warm."

Erza extends from one end of his universe to the other. She isn't _just_ one half of a pair. She isn't _just_ a weapon, no.

She is _everything_.

He hates the relief that comes when she is still soft and warm beneath his hands. Reassuring words are weak against her like so many leaves in the river. So he speaks with his fingertips and leaves the language of his love on her skin.

She gasps when his breath stirs the tendrils of red at her neck. His lips leave a trail of fire across her shoulders and around to her breasts. She tastes as sweet as the sugar she loves so much. Her stomach is taut but trembles under his touch.

"Jellal," she breathes. He never wants her to forget his name, even if she'd rather never hear her own ever again. Fingers scrape his scalp and tug on his hair as his mouth reaches the most desperate part of her.

He parts her thighs with confident skill and she doesn't resist. Erza is a fighter but for him she is soft. Not _dull_ – but _tractable_. Her back arches and the peaks of her breasts glow in the moonlight. She is etherial. When his mouth settles over her she becomes a symphony.

Her lips are swollen from the abuse of her teeth but he doesn't kiss her carefully. Erza's legs trap him between and it is a prison he'll gladly accept. He is hard and she is supple. She kisses him and he can't stop the force with which he enters her.

There is something breathtaking about the way they move together. It isn't a dance, or the clever advance and parry of a battle, nor the push and pull of the moon... all of these pale in comparison to their fluidity. His hand covers the swell of her breast and her nails mark his back. Erza's climb to ecstasy propels him to heights he cannot even imagine when not inside of her.

She swears and sobs and cries his name and it is the most beautiful thing he has ever heard. He kisses her lips and cheek.

"This is what makes you human, Erza," Jellal whispers into the damp skin of her neck. "Your tears, your blush, your breaths. Don't be afraid of what you are. I know you inside and out."

A tear rolls over the edge of his mouth. It tastes of salt and he kisses it away. Erza's eyes are wide and wet when he finds them again.

"I love you," she says quietly into the night. "And I'm trying not to be afraid."


End file.
